


she's an american beauty

by intodrummers (sohappily)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M, and dont worry ur not dating all four at once it's split up between four parts, enjoy i suppose, i really love ab/ap and i really love 5sos, so there's that, so this kind of happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohappily/pseuds/intodrummers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>4-part series (one for each of the guys) based off of songs from fall out boy's album "american beauty/american psycho" because what's better than 5sos and fall out boy? not much</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. if you just hold on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 1/4 with michael is based off of "twin skeletons (hotel in nyc)"  
> you and michael are each other's escape and each other's anchor, too.

you had first encountered michael clifford at the super 8 hotel on the night you ran away. you had climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor with a single duffle bag flung over your shoulder, and he was standing at the end of the hall, facing a window, back turned to you. you found that your room, 437, was in his direction. you walked quietly, not wanting to disturb him, and it surprised you when he turned around and watched you walk down the hall.

"hi," the boy called out to you, his voice deep and rocky. "what's a pretty thing like you doing here so late?"

you kept your eyes on the wall, searching for your room. "i needed to leave my family," you stated, not wanting to partake in any deep conversation.

"that's not safe to be alone," he replied. "i should be the one to talk, but at least you're here. where's your room?"

he started walking over to you, which only made your heart beat in double-time and your pace quicken. "it should be somewhere around here," you answered, feeling trapped.

"what number?"

"none of your business," you spat, starting to wonder why he was here in the first place.

he chuckled as he leaned up against the wall a few doors ahead of you. "spicy," he commented. "do you want to ask me anything since i so rudely got into your business?"

you looked at him, exasperated. you were taken aback by his hair - fiery red and peeking out from underneath a black snapback. he wore an unbuttoned denim shirt over a ripped up sex pistols tee, paired with black skinny jeans and black converse. sure, he was attractive, but also rather intrusive.

"why are you here?" you asked, slowing down your pace to avoid walking past him.

"if we're being honest, i'm hiding. i've been here for almost three months," he stated, shrugging a shoulder. "the rooms are small and the service isn’t ace, but it works, i guess."

as he answered, you kept walking, following the numbers on the wall farther down. you sighed as you passed up 431, happy that you were almost to your room.

"don't you want to know why i'm hiding?"

you stopped in front of room 437, two doors in front of where this boy was leaned against the wall. "if we're being honest," you mocked, "i'm really tired and just want to sleep. have a good night," you finished, shoving your card into the slot and pushing open your door.

"whatever you say, beautiful," he called after you as you stepped into your room and closed the door, throwing your bag on the floor and falling into bed, the pressure of today weighing heavy on your shoulders.

 

no more than half an hour later, you heard music blasting from the neighboring room. groaning, you got up, not willing to put up with obnoxious music at two in the morning. you swung your legs out of bed, grabbed your room key, and left your room to go tell the neighbors to stop.

it only took one knock before the music became quieter and the door swung open, revealing the same red-haired guy from earlier. "is there a problem?" he smirked, leaning against the door.

"i'm trying to sleep, you absolute dick."

his expression turned to one of mock sadness. "come on...." his voice trailed off as he tried to remember your name.

"y/n," you said. "don't get me wrong, blink is a great band, but it's been a long day and i just want to sleep," you explained. he nodded slowly and took a few steps away from the door to stop his music.

"you like blink?" he asked, phone in hand..

you threw your head back and covered your eyes with your hands. "yeah, i do,” you groaned. “i'm also a fan of sleeping."

"sorry, yeah, i'll stop. uh, have a good night," he said. "my name's michael, by the way."

you turned back to your room and put your key into the slot. "thanks, michael, goodnight."

you pushed open your door and collapsed on your bed again. the room was incredibly small and the beds were uncomfortable, but with your limited budget, it was really all you could afford, which was alright. you needed this, anyway.

 

right as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, the phone on your nightstand rang, causing you to jump out of your skin. you took a deep breath before reaching over to answer it.

"what?" you said, clearly annoyed.

"were you trying to sleep?" the voice on the other end asked quietly. “it’s michael, i didn’t mean to wake you."

"i was about to sleep, yeah. why did you call?" you sat up in bed, curious as to why he was calling.

"just wanted to let you know that the lock on your window is broken," he stated. "it's unsafe, really, you should come over here for the night."

you stood up from your bed, stretching the phone cord behind you as you walked to the window. seeing that the window was currently locked, you tried to lift it, but with no such luck. "it seems fine," you replied.

"you're not a burglar, though," he said. "they're stronger and equipped, you know?"

you sat back down on the bed, starting to put two and two together. "a burglar could break through a locked window, too, ri-"

"it'd just be safer for you to come over here, okay?"

"alright, michael," you smiled, chuckling. "be over in a sec."

 

\---

 

michael, as you soon discovered, was incredibly laid back. he had helped you to check out the next morning, only to then help you sneak back in so you could room with him, no money out of your pocket.

you had been rooming with him for about a week, now. every night, you had stayed up talking, sitting out on the balcony and looking up at the sky. you told him about your troubles at home and he told you about his past.

he wasn't bad, himself, but he had been involved with a bad group at one point. one of his friends had robbed a bank and killed three people in the process, and his guilty conscience got the best of him. he turned his friend in - the main criminal got sentenced to 30 years and the accomplices, michael's _other_ friends, got sentenced 15. the few times he had gone into visit them, they had threatened to expose his smaller, petty crimes; one even promised to kill him. the past four nights, he had been on the verge of tears as he explained that he wasn't sure if it was worth losing all of his friends' trust and causing them to hate him just so he could feel okay with himself.

night after night was spent like that, curled up on each other’s beds, staring at the ceiling, confessing things to each other that not even your closest friends knew about. there were some weeks where you would leave; you would take a train into the city and stay there for a few nights. you’d go back home to see a friend, travel to the coast with another. michael would do the same, but to a lesser extent. he’d spend the majority of the day out, then come back as the sun started to rise.

he and you reached a point where you were barely awake at the same time. you’d go without seeing each other for days, even. but you knew that if you waited in the godforsaken hotel, he would come back. he’d sit by the door to the balcony, a thin wisp of smoke rising from his lips as he looked out over the skyline, a cigarette dangling from his lips..

“it’s been seven months,” he spoke one night as you laid on a bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. “why can’t i get any closure after seven months?”

“be prepared to wait a year and seven more,” you sighed. “it won’t happen overnight, michael, at least you’re free.”

“free from what?” he asked, slightly louder, his accent especially thick as the cigarette dangled from his lips. “free from the cops? free from judgement? free from the knowledge that my carelessness caused the death of two of my best friends and the arrest of three more? ‘cause no, i’m not free.” he pressed his forehead against the glass door. “i messed up, y/n.”

you stayed silent, unsure of how to console him. you were never sure at times like this, and you weren’t sure you ever would be. but you were so thankful to have him, and you knew that he felt the same, even though he rarely expressed emotions along the lines of love.

“but you know what?” he asked, barely louder than a whisper. “i don’t regret anything.”

you sat up on the bed, eyebrows furrowed, because until just now, you were _positive_ that regret coursed through his veins like the blood that ran through yours. “what?”

“i... i don’t regret anything, y/n, because i wouldn’t have met you.”

“michael...” your voice trailed off, you were unsure how to continue. “are you sure that’s why?”

he turned towards you, making eye contact. he removed the cigarette from his lips and dangled it in between his fingers. “i’m positive. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. ever. and i’m not lying.”

“talk to me when you’re not high,” you joked, unable to process his confession because sure, you felt the same way, but hearing it from michael meant something totally different.

michael stood up warily, sitting down on the bed opposite of you. it creaked underneath his weight and he dropped the cigarette, grinding it into the carpet with his shoe.

“michael, don’t d-”

“shut up,” he interrupted, a smirk on his face as he lifted his foot. “i’m not high, by the way.”

“sure,” you scoffed, biting your lower lip.

michael stood up and walked over to you. he grabbed both of your hands in his and looked down at you. “y/n, there are only two things that i know for sure right now. the first is that i haven’t smoked weed in a week and the second is that i’m so in love with you it hurts.”

you stared up at him and noticed the way his eyes were practically sparkling despite the dim lighting of your shoddy hotel room. “michael gordon clifford,” you said, chuckling. “there is only one thing that i know for sure and it’s that i’m undeniably in love with you, too.”

his grip on your hands tightened as a smile spread across his lips. “can i ask you something?”

“fire away, gordon.”

he lightly punched you in the arm before taking a deep breath and swallowing hard. “it’s just that, like, we’ve both been through the worst things and yeah, while managing to get through the worst part of my life with you is great, i just... i want to experience the greatest part of my life with you, too.” he paused and took another breath before continuing. “i’ve, um, saved up a little money here and there and i think it’s enough to get us out of here and it’s not enough to get our own place, yet, but my friend calum in upstate new york said that he’d be willing to give us a place to stay for the next six months and it’s perfect, y/n, we can start over and we can be together and-”

“so your question is?” you asked, unable to contain the smile on your face.

“will you start over with me?”

“i’d love to, michael.”


	2. baby come home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2/4 with luke is based off of "jetpack blues"  
> it's been three months since he left and three weeks until he comes back, and neither of you thought it'd hurt this bad.

unfortunately, late-night phone calls were something that you had gotten used to. you had also gotten used to five minute facetimes and automatically calculating times in different timezones. most of all, though, you had gotten used to feeling a hole in your heart twenty four/seven.

the first time luke left on tour after you had started dating, you made the agreement to try to make things work. and somehow, you had. saying that it was going along well was an overstatement, but you were still together. for now, at least.

 

it was on the late, rainy nights that you felt the separation the most. it hit you rather suddenly that while you were in your bed, curled up and crying and listening to sad music, luke was playing in front of thousands of people and having the time of his life. because of his busy schedule, he was normally the one to call you whenever he had free time, but this night in particular, you felt especially lonely, and you decided to call anyway.

“babe?” he asked the second he picked up. “is everything okay?”

you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the concern in his voice. “yeah, yeah, it’s.... it’s alright, i guess. i just...”

“hold on, let me get away from the boys.” there was some yelling and a door closing before it got quieter on his end of the line. “talk to me.”

“i know i’m not supposed to call you but luke, i really miss you and it hurts and i’m sitting in bed and realizing that i haven’t held you in months and i’m not sure how much longer i can do this and i know you don’t want to hear that but it just hurts, luke.” tears started to fall down your cheeks as you whimpered. “and i don’t know what to do.”

“nononono, don’t cry, babygirl. promise me, i know it hurts. but we’ve made it three months, do you realize that? we’ve only got three and a half weeks, and if we made it through three months, we’ll be fine, right?”

despite luke’s reassurance, you could tell that he was on the verge of tears as well. “yeah, i do, i’m sorry for calling you, i knew that.”

“baby, you don’t ever have to apologize to me,” he spoke. “you never have to apologize. don’t feel guilty for calling me, alright?”

you bit your lip to hold back a sob. “y-yeah, yeah, i won’t. i just don’t like interrupting your schedule, that’s all, but like, i want to know that you still love me?” you almost asked the last part, posing it as a question, needing to hear him say ‘i love you’ before you fell asleep.

“i love you, y/n, you know i do,” he said. “i really, really love you, and nothing can change that, not even thousands of miles, okay?”

“yeah,” you answered, feeling your heart beat in your throat.

“i’ll see you in a few weeks, alright? i have to leave for an interview, i’ll text you later. love you lots, babe.” with that, he hung up, not waiting for a response.

“baby, come home,” you whispered into the phone, on the verge of tears. you knew that luke hated to hear you cry because it made him sad, and you didn’t want to stress him out with your feelings. you were close to your breaking point, though, and luke knew it without you telling him. he was always sensitive to that kind of stuff, and you were normally appreciative of it. but this was something different.

you set your phone face-down next to you on your pillow as you laid your head down and openly cried over luke for the first time in the eight months you had been dating. you loved him, you really did, but it was so hard to go months without hugging him but watch as pictures surface of him with his arm around other random girls. he assured you that they meant nothing, but you were never too sure.

your room suddenly felt too stuffy and tight. as your breathing quickened, you climbed out of bed, grabbed your coat, and went out onto your apartment balcony. trying to clear your mind, you stared out into the night, watching raindrops dance under the gentle glow of the streetlights. lightning shattered the pitch black sky, illuminating the rooftops of other apartment buildings. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but luke.

you lost track of how long you sat out on your balcony, watching the rain fall in sheets and watching as lights in other buildings flickered on and off. you couldn’t help but smile when you saw a woman run down four flights of stairs to meet a man down in the parking lot, immediately jumping into his arms as he gently spun her in the rain.

just as your eyelids started to get heavy and the storm started to lighten up, your phone started buzzing in your back pocket. it was luke, and no matter how much you wanted to ignore his call and go to bed, you answered his facetime request anyway.

“luke?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “why’d you call again?”

he ran his tongue over his lip ring before taking a deep breath. “i-i didn’t want to leave you like that. i shouldn’t have cut you off like that to do an interview. it wasn’t even worth it, honestly. i feel horrible.”

“it’s... it’s alright, luke, i promise. i didn’t think anything of it,” you replied (even though you most definitely thought something about it).

he ran his hand through his hair. “no, it’s not. it’s not alright. you needed me and i left you for an interview. you needed me home and i left you for tour. you needed me before the tour and i left to do promotional stuff. i keep leaving you and all i want to do is come back.”

you were left speechless at how genuinely he spoke and how open he was. “luke...”

“i miss you so much. i miss you more than i ever have. like, we just got out of that stupid interview and they asked who was single and all i could think about was you.” he sat down on his bed, staring into the camera. “i thought about how you are when you wake up in the mornings - like when you brush your hair out of your eyes and stretch and then burrow back down into the sheets so just your beautiful eyes peek out and i feel like i’m the luckiest guy in the world. i thought about how you look wearing my clothes, like a week before i left when you just wore my red flannel and that lingerie i got you and i thought about how you looked underneath me and how you insisted on cuddling me afterward, even though we were both sweaty. i thought about those nights where we sit right where you are now and we won’t talk but it’s okay because i know you love me and you know i love you. and you’ll chuckle at a line in your book and i’ll strum a chord on the guitar.” he wiped a tear from his cheek and closed his eyes as he laid down. “i don’t know where i was going with that but i just know that i need to hold you.”

tears streaked your own cheeks as you looked at luke. you had never heard him go on like that before, but it was such incredible reassurance that he still did love you, no matter how many girls he was pictured with.

“can you... can you just say something, baby?”

“i... i’m speechless. i didn’t know it was that hard on you.” it was the truth, after all. you had assumed that the place you held in his heart got filled from fans and shows and travelling while you were apart.

“can i ask you something?” he pouted, reaching to turn off the light beside his bed.

“of course, luke.”

“would you mind just... just staying with me? like just fall asleep with me?”

you were taken aback at how open he was and how vulnerable he seemed. “yeah, let me get into bed, hold on.” quickly, you went back into your apartment, locked the door, took off your jacket, and climbed back into bed. you burrowed under the covers with just your eyes peeking out, and you could hear luke chuckle.

“how did i get so lucky?” you heard him ask, more or less to himself. “you promise not to leave?” he asked louder.

“never would i ever dream of it,” you answered. “goodnight, luke. i can’t wait to be able to kiss you.”

luke bit his lip, obviously trying to keep himself from crying. “baby, i’ll come home and it’ll happen sooner than you know. i love you so much.”

“i love you too,” you replied, closing your eyes and falling asleep. but before you did, you realized that yeah, it was all worth it. definitely.


End file.
